The Surreal Killer
by jiggyjogs2
Summary: While on vacation in Santa Barbara, Neal and Peter come across a forged Vladimir Kush painting and a murdered art dealer. They will have to work with the SBPD and their psychic consultants, Shawn and Gus, to figure out who committed the crimes.
1. Chapter 1

All Peter wanted was a vacation; time to relax and enjoy the sun in California with only his wife by his side. No thefts, no forged bonds, no corrupt politicians, and most of all: no Neal. He didn't mind Neal, especially now that they haven't been keeping secrets from each other, but his mind associated Neal's face with work at the FBI and catching white collar criminals. That was the reason he and Elizabeth flew almost 3,000 miles across the country to Santa Barbara, California.

The couple was just checking-in at the 5-star resort located on the most private part of the East Beach when they heard a familiar voice call out to them.

"Peter, Elizabeth! What a surprise seeing you here!"

With a sigh, Peter turned away from the main desk. He should have known. "Neal. Why are you here?"

"Oh, this place has the best complimentary breakfast in town, no question. An unsatisfying breakfast is a deal-breaker for me."

"Not _here_ here," said Peter, waving his hand in the air, indicating the resort. He was already starting to lose his patience. "I mean what are you doing here? In Santa Barbara. Where I told you I would be taking my wife for a quiet vacation. Without you."

"I'm sensing some negativity in your voice, Peter. You should really visit Carmen at the spa and get a massage. Her hands are magic. Oh, and if you mention my name, she might give you a discount for being my consultant." Neal had that smirk on his face; the one that made Peter want to cuff him and send him back to New York in a squad car.

"_Your consultant_?" Peter whispered menacingly. Neal simply winked. Peter was so fun to mess with.

"Honey," Elizabeth finally chimed in and put a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder. "Let's be honest, did you truly believe we could have a quiet vacation to ourselves given our past experiences?" Peter knew she was right. The last time they tried to get away for a week they had been kidnapped by a Bonnie-and-Clyde-like couple who held them in a warehouse.

Another sigh. "I guess not."

"Come on, Peter," Neal chimed in. "I won't annoy you two. I just came here to see the Vladimir Kush show at LeMarc's Gallery. They say they'll be unveiling his latest painting, _Turning Leaves_."

"Ooh, Honey, we should go to that! I've been wanting to see the show myself." El was practically jumping up and down. Peter, however, was able to contain his excitement; an effortless task due to his entire lack of enthusiasm. Art was not his thing. Catching the bad guys who stole it? Yeah, that was more his style. If it wasn't in evidence, Peter wasn't about to be roped into looking at paintings and sculptures. But seeing the eagerness in his wife's eyes was enough to make him cave. He would do anything to make her happy.

Neal looked at Peter expectantly. "You know, I just so happen to have two extra tickets. What d'ya say? Join me?"

So much for Neal not annoying him on his vacation. With an almost imperceptible nod of his head, Peter replied, "Fine. We'll go."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately I do not own the characters I use in this story. All credit for these wonderful personas goes to Jeff Eastin and Steve Franks.

* * *

"Come on, Jules. You know how much I hate these things. Can't we just get some fries Quatros Quesos Dos Fritos and curl up like little rabbits to a Die Hard marathon? You like rabbits. With their silky smooth ears and beady eyes that can pierce your soul and discover your innermost thoughts and feelings..." The fake, psychic consultant trailed off with frightened realization crossing his features. "I've changed my mind. Rabbits are evil. Let's curl up like-"

"Shawn!" Detective Juliet O'Hara of the Santa Barbara Police Department rolled her eyes at her exasperating boyfriend/coworker, who at this moment was being particularly childish. "Forget about rabbits! We hardly ever go out. You know I love spending time with just you-"

"Pssh, who wouldn't? Am I right Lassie?" Shawn nodded in the direction of Detective Carlton Lassiter.

"No."

"Oh, Lassie! You joker! You know how much your heart hearts me." Shawn gave him a big, cheesy grin. Lassiter continued to read the file at his desk, ignoring him completely.

"Back to my point," said Juliet. "I really think this art show will be fun."

"Jules, apparently we have very different definitions of the word 'fun.'"

"I let you bring Gus."

"Deal," he responded instantly.

"Bring me where?" said Shawn's best friend and partner, Gus, who had just walked into the precinct and heard the tail end of their conversation.

"Some art show for this guy, Vladimir Putin," said Shawn.

"You mean Vladimir Kush. Vladimir Putin is the President of Russia," said Gus.

Shawn scoffed. "Sure."

Gus shook his head. "Anyway, I've been wanting to go to that show."

"Man, not you too!"

"What? He's a pioneer in the genre of 'metaphorical surrealism,'" said Gus.

"Sounds sur-_real _boring."

"Just give it a try Shawn, please?" said Juliet.

From the other side of the room, Lassiter piped up, "You know, Shawn, you could always stay here with me and help file these reports."

Shawn turned back to Juliet. "I'll pick you up at 6:00."

* * *

**A/N: **I know the chapters aren't very long, but I'll hopefully update this story somewhat frequently. Thanks for reading! Leave a comment or review if you want and I'll try to remember to read them.


End file.
